Black Leprechaun
by Qilin
Summary: Gryffindors to the very end. Auror Ron Weasley is on the case, racing against time to save a friend and the world from the clutches of a new Slytherin terrorist. After DH Epilogue, Character Death.


Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, ah well, I can still play with it though.

Summary:_ Gryffindors to the very end. Auror Ron Weasley is on the case, racing against time to save a friend and the world from the clutches of a new Slytherin terrorist. After DH Epilogue, Character Death._

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Black Leprechaun

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This morning couldn't get any worse. His children had spilt the floo powder all throughout the house in their excitement to get to platform nine and three-quarters, causing a powder storm to descend upon the furniture and rugs near the fireplace. They had been ecstatic to see their cousins again as the Potters had just arrived back in England from an extended vacation to the mainland. He ended up being late for the morning meeting in the Auror department and now he was saddled with a case he never would have wanted to take.

He was a Gryffindor though, and it was his duty.

Quaffing his coffee as quickly as possible, he sputtered as the steaming brew burnt his tongue.

The coffee was much hotter than he usually was given. Quite different than the twice steeped muddy sludge that was the available mid-morning coffee.

Coughing, he felt as though he was bringing up a lung. 'Mione was always going on and on about how he needed to slow down and appreciate the food and drink he was consuming.

With eyes watery from the pain, he spat up the steaming liquid into the bin near his desk. A perfect demonstration for how he felt being on this particular case. Once clear of the heat in his mouth, he grabbed the cup and swirled the contents around. This was a new blend that wasn't in the department before. He wondered if someone had brought it in as a sample in protest of the regular coffee served.

Tapping the edge with his wand and casting a mild cooling charm, he took a small sip.

It was quite good.

Snagging the arm of a passing office assistant, Ron asked, "Sorry, but do you know the name of the new brand of coffee in use here?"

Ron couldn't place the man; he had never seen this assistant before. He would have remembered the yellow teeth with some decayed black as the man grinned.

"Good isn't it? It's called Black Leprechaun, ya'know after that terrorist who's blowing up those buildings."

Ron raised an eyebrow, "Why would they name it after a terrorist?"

"Something about it being inspired by the You-know-Poo candy that came out during the Second War. Makes people here feel empowered, like they' gonna be the one ta' get him. The slogan reads 'All _Aurors love their coffee with chocolate; it keeps away the coughs and sniffles._' So far it's held true today, no one's sick."

The man grinned again. Ron shuddered and released his elbow; the man tipped his hat and Ron got a glimpse of unwashed, dirty, greasy hair reminding him of a past professor. Due to a new job program instated by the Ministry, temp jobs were handed out to some of the shelters in order to prevent a small number of witches and wizards from turning to crime. Knockturn Alley had been cleaned out a decade ago, and the Ministry had been struggling for the past few years to prevent a resurrection of it.

Ron shuddered once more and went back to the file, twitching a bit at the dark irony of the fact that the coffee he was currently drinking was named after the assignment he had been given.

He frowned again, looking at the name of the terrorist recorded on the first page of the file.

_'Seamus Finnigan _– Case Number 51182

_Identified in chase by dropped wand._

_Last spell used: Atmospheric imager spell_

_Used on: Cumulonimbus clouds above disaster site_

_100% link to earlier school magic identity based on magic particles at scene'_

Ron sighed.

Seamus hadn't been heard from in years. After the bodies of his family had been found in the mansion of an arrested Death Eater; Seamus had up and disappeared. It was thought by the rest of their age group that he had vanished into the muggle world, shedding his ties to magic.

He was back now, and blowing up public facilities.

And it was Ron's job to find out why.

He honestly could not believe that Seamus had done this.

Besides, he had allowed himself to been seen casting an alter cloud spell over the site of what had been an orphanage.

In the clouds was a bloody great Black Leprechaun that could be seen for miles. Shite. It was the signature hanging over the other crime scenes as well.

The Black Leprechaun was named as the new dark lord.

And it was _Seamus_. Hell.

_Terrorist_: Completely razed a restaurant, store, and orphanage to the ground.

_Murder_: 506 people dead. 249 of that number, children under the age of 12.

Rubbing his brow at the thought, he took another sip of the coffee.

It couldn't be Seamus. It was _stupid_. It made little sense. What would his motive even _be_?

Lost his family… lost his inheritance…lost his… _everything_. A horrible thing yes, but not the motive a usual Gryffindor suspect would have.

_'He must have been pretty depressed.'_

Depressed Gryffindor suspects tended to turn to drugs to achieve a high, especially those Gryffindors that had seen the Second War. There had even been cases where victims allowed someone to put them in an _Imperioed_ state. Not that Gryffindors were brought in often; they tended to die at the scene when surrounded.

By their own wand or by the Aurors'.

Gryffindors fought to the very end, bullheaded in going after what they wanted, whatever it was they believed in.

Even Ron could admit it.

His eyes snapped open, as a theory clicked in place.

_"THAT'S IT!"_

Flipping back through the chart of the Black Leprechaun, Aka Seamus Finnigan; if he had re-entered the wizarding world under his own name, there might be records of it. Closing the crime record, he opened his once friend's general file, after blowing the dust off it. Sometimes these general files updated magically in the case of engagements, marriages, and divorces.

Moving through Seamus' regular file, he arrived at the stats page containing his relations and family; Ron had found his suspect.

_'Engaged to Pansy Parkinson 8/24/2017'_

Time to go visit a very suspicious Slytherin; known for using the Imperious Curse on fellow students during Voldemort's short reign.

Oh, he so had this case in the bag.

Time to visit a Slytherin indeed.

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A Slytherin who could not be found.

Ron was extremely annoyed; he had hoped to wrap up this cause before it got out that the main suspect was Seamus.

He had checked all spots that she was known to have regularly visit. He even broke into her house. After he got the warrants for it this time, of course.

He had it figured out:

_'Pansy, angered by the turn out of the war, bided her time until the United Kingdom's magical people felt safe and secure. Finding herself a puppet, she Imperios him into performing acts of terrorism, comparable to the death eaters she was once expecting to join. She now has a cover. Few people believed the line, "I was jinxed into doing it", after the amount of times that card was pulled during the two wars against Voldemort_.'

_'Besides'_, Ron thought rolling his eyes, '_a leprechaun represented Seamus' nationality too much. A real murder wouldn't want to use a call sign easily connected to their alter ego.'_

Her house was completely barren of life. There were signs of a struggle near the basement door suggesting that someone had been kept there against their will.

An overturned chair here. Trinkets pushed to the ground there. A chip missing from the basement door that led down into a potions lab filled with broken glass.

Enshrouding his torso in a bubblehead charm, he descended into the lab. Pansy was a known potions master, and he didn't want to inhale any leftover fumes. He suspected that Pansy had also made illegal poisons, but he didn't have the evidence to pin it on her.

He sighed, nothing but broken glass and unknown piles of goop on the ground. Empty as the rest of the rooms in the house. More signs in the kitchen of a struggle; coffee grounds were spilt on the floor and a cooked breakfast, days –weeks old was left on the counter.

Her regular routine was a complete bust as well.

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Rechecking the house two weeks later shed no extra leads for him to search; he had hit a dead end, and today the ministry had informed the Daily Prophet of their primary suspects. With no Pansy to bring in for questioning or on charges, Seamus was left to the brunt of public indiscretion. His name would be dragged through the mud in the Evening Prophet; once Ron found him, if alive, he would probably need to live on the continent to find any sort of peace.

He slammed his fist into the wall of the entry way. Breathing through the pain, Ron took air in the wrong way, causing him to cough painfully. In the past week he had developed a slight case of the sniffles that seemed to be going around most of the ministry. Everyone had to deal with it, this bug seemed immune to the usual potions; it happened sometimes. Hermione had called it 'ebolution', and had spouted off more muggle terms that Ron had nodded his acceptance through. If it didn't have anything to do with magic or had no affect on him because it was information before the last hundred years, he really didn't care. His History grade was a testament to that.

Attempting to get his coughing under control, he left the house.

_'Guess it was more of a bad case of the coughs. Huh. Poor advertising on that coffee.' _Ron thought, thinking about getting another cup. Dean had introduced him to a world of coffee flavors years ago; he considered himself something of a connoisseur, Hermione wouldn't touch the stuff.

_'Seamus had been part of those coffee parties in the dorm for late night studying as well,'_ Ron clutched his chest, he seemed to be going through near physical pain at the thought of his lost friend.

It hurt to know there was a good chance he would lose another friend.

Pansy lived in a rundown area much as Snape once had; smog and warehouses. She was probably saving for a massive mansion or something.

Moving through the streets aimlessly, silence spread and cloyed in the air like the smog, he felt like he was in his own little world of gray.

And then the screaming started, echoing from his left.

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It was Seamus. Ron could tell as he chased the man down alleys, leading away from the crime scene where it looked like he had cast fiendfyre on a group of muggles. With the Leprechaun distorting the grayish yellow clouds around it, like black ink leaking into wet tissue paper. Pansy must have given Seamus a new wand.

_'Damn you to hell Pansy.'_

The man running in front of him was lean and overly skinny, but that clean hair was very much like the last time he had seen him. His patchwork pants and coat seemed to sag off him.

Ron puffed. He could feel another cough coming on as he chased after Seamus. A horrible time to get sick.

He needed to end this fast, the distance between them was growing.

Shooting a bone breaking curse at the runner, Ron caught him in the leg just as he turned into another alley.

Seamus screamed as his leg broke, stumbling and hitting a wall. Ron held his breath as he picked up speed and slapped a pair of handcuffs on the injured and scuffed form of his friend.

He bent over and coughed his throat raw; getting it under control he looked at the man, who was covered in abrasions while scowling.

Seamus' eyes were clear.

And Ron flew into a rage.

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"WHY, you asshole! Tell me you had a reason! Were the buildings filled with a new Dark Lord or were you just intent on _taking his place_?" Ron shouted in Finnigan's face shaking him by the neck of his shirt.

Finnigan flailed weakly; he looked sallow, must have been the pain in his leg. Ron had no regrets about it now, due to this turn of events.

In fact, Ron punched him once in the face and tossed the weakened man into a wall. Everything he believed in, was shattered. He felt betrayed.

"What about _Gryffindor_! What about _courage_ in fighting for what's _right_! It was an orphanage you piece of _filth_!" Ron shrieked out his voice breaking, injuring his raw throat more. He spat on the pavement, in the dim light he could see the slightest tinge of red.

"I AM A GRYFFINDOR! I'm brave enough to do what should have happened a long time ago."

"It was KIDS, Seamus!" Ron whispered hoarsely, shoving a picture of the children that lived at the orphanage in the skinny man's face. "KIDS!"

"If wizards and witches didn't exist, it wouldn't have happened. We shouldn't exist! WE'RE A BLIGHT TO THIS WORLD," Finnigan had taken on a fanatical tone as his voice rose.

Ron growled before coughing once more. More blood specks than before, a deep maroon.

_'Crap, I really need to go visit a Mediwizard after this.'_

He had this case the bag, for all that it actually _was_ his old dorm mate. Finnigan was unable to cast magic with those particular cuffs on, and Ron was a much better hand to hand fighter than the scrawny remnant of his once long ago friend.

Wiping the blood off his lip, Finnigan started laughing hysterically. Then his face morphed and his body curled in on itself. He slumped once more to the ground and hunched against the brick wall behind him. Blood dribbled in rivulets down under the man's broken leg.

"I – I didn't want to do it." Finnigan sniveled.

"Oh?" Ron said looking away. He could not stand to see an old friend on the side of evil.

"She made me do it! I was _Imperiused_!"

Ron looked up eyes narrowed at the thought of his original suspect. Seamus had been acting a bit bleary; but Ron hadn't seen him in years. His eyes were clear, evidence against a controlling curse.

Ron leaned down and bent over, resting his weight on the balls of his feet. The man leaning against the brick wall looked up at his face, and Ron could almost see the boy he used to know.

"Where is Pansy, then?" Ron questioned.

He wasn't like Dumbledore; he didn't give an infinite number of chances.

"You never lost your hatred for Slytherins did you? I killed her a few weeks ago. When she became useless," Seamus smirked, his face contorting into that of a frenzied berserker once more. He head butted Ron in the chin, causing him to fall over backwards onto the pavement.

"_Errgnff!_" Ron grunted in surprise and pain, as the back of his head smacked into pavement of the muggle alley.

He breathed in deeply hoping it would clear the stars from his eyes. It aggravated his lungs and throat causing him to hack up more blood. He clutched at his chest, as pain rocked and pulsed across nerves.

'_Damn.'_ The earlier running must have caused his raw throat to rupture a bit when he was breathing harder.

"So, _auror_," the perpetrator sneered in defiance, levering his body up the wall by his shoulders, curling his handcuffed fists inward," it's the orphanage that alerted the ministry it was me then? They must have found my wand that I ditched," he finished, attempting to balance on his broken leg.

_'It doesn't matter he's not going anywhere. Not with that cracked bone._'

"Your last attack yes. You were seen leaving the scene. Don't even try to move; those handcuffs have a locator in them. You've been caught and I will watch your soul be sucked out, _devil_." Ron gasped ou through the pain.

Finnigan chuckled softly, gaining volume until he cut off abruptly and stared at the red haired auror struggling to right himself from the ground, while coughing into one fist.

The lanky handcuffed man smirked.

"The orphanage was a month ago. It wasn't my latest hit. I've… moved on to a larger prize." He chuckled.

Ron's insides froze as he struggled to retain his spasming diaphragm. Hermione always shopped in Diagon Alley on Sundays like this.

"You filthy terrorist,_ WHERE_!" He shouted attempting to roll on his side to lever himself up and failing.

_'What's wrong with me?'_

"Why can't I get up?"Ron asked out loud confusedly.

Finnigan's smirk widened, as he stared at Ron's fallen form.

"It's already too late for you now. And you weren't even the one to get the first dose. It lies dormant for a few weeks collecting and integrating with your immune system; if it wasn't dealt with in the first…," Finnigan stated moving his hands, one with three finger raised, " …three days, then it's too late for medical attention to do anything but make you comfortable. Added doses only make it more…painful. I had Pansy's help of course."

"I had you. I had you. I was so close." Ron coughed weakly from the ground as the poisoner hobbled over.

"Yes. Yes you were close. But I've already seeded the entire ministry, besides _'All Aurors love their coffee with chocolate, it keeps away the coughs and sniffles._' Who wouldn't want a drink?"

Ron's eyes went wide at the phrase. And his mouth opened to scream, to yell to do anything but gurgle, blood flowed out his mouth, cutting off any vocalization but a painful grunt. His nerves were on fire.

And he was drowning at the same time.

All he could do was watch as his soon to be murder reached a hand into his own mouth and pulled out a tooth, flicking it twice then putting it between the two hand cuff rings. Ron heard a muffled sizzle and a clink as the empty hand cuffs struck the ground.

"Your family will be lucky for a little while, mate." The muck covered man stated, patting the auror on the chest while he spasmed on the ground," What with your kids being taken out of school and all for your funeral. There won't be a body after a few hours; the toxins running through your system will corrode you into nothing but a bloody puddle."

As he got back up he grabbed Ron's hair and tugged. Ron attempted to scream while his head felt like a couple thousand red caps were biting him. Seamus regained his height slowly, and pocketed the hairs.

Ron gurgled in pain. It was obvious now that he was going to die here. If what Finnigan had implied was true, he wouldn't be receiving help.

"Be happy Ronnie, you've gone out like a true _Gryffindor_," Finnigan stated taking a deep breath and limping back toward the street, "I, on the other hand, will be brave enough to excise the tumor that we have become from this wounded country. I've taken care of the ministry, the next stop is Hogwarts."

Ron raised his wand as fast as his poison wracked body would allow and cast a weak 'S_ectumsempra'_ that struck Finnigan in the back. The limping man flinched for a minute, before continuing on down the alley. The spell had been too weak to strike him down; Ron assumed the majority of his magic was focused inside his body, attempting in vain to destroy the poison.

Ron heard the poisoner's shuffling _shhhll_-step echoing through the alley and disappearing.

_'Damn you Seamus.'_

He raised one of his extremely heavy arms fingering the blood leaking from his mouth with numb fingers. He groaned as he whipped his arm away from himself. Moving it painfully, he made his last move against his murderer.

Rubbing his fingers against the ground, he was able to spell out _'HOG'_ before his chest spasmed again and he no longer felt his arm. Too much blood in his throat; he was only breathing in blood. No air.

_'Cough, cough…..cough'_

Black.

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A/N: Err…..Ta-Da? I was kinda surprised that poison didn't seem to be used in the books.

I'd really like to know what people thought the outcome was going to be, please review and let me know?

Came out a bit longer than I had originally expected.


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